<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>drivers license by chaotically_cas</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28910637">drivers license</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/chaotically_cas/pseuds/chaotically_cas'>chaotically_cas</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Outsiders - S. E. Hinton</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>M/M, Post Death Fic, tw death, tw gun violence mention, tw war</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-22</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 11:28:23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>885</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28910637</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/chaotically_cas/pseuds/chaotically_cas</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>This is inspired by driver’s license by Olivia Rodrigo yeah yeah <br/>Angst warning</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Sodapop Curtis/Steve Randle</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>drivers license</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Steve couldn’t take it anymore. He was sick of his old man yelling at him to do the dishes, the laundry, or sweep the floors. He knew they were just little things but he couldn’t handle it anymore. Anything was too much. <br/>It was only two weeks ago he got the news about Soda’s death in Vietman. He couldn’t handle spending time at the Curtis’s house after that. It reminded him of Soda. And he was sick of seeing Pony cry and Darry grouch. <br/>So he left. He stormed right out his front door, slamming it, ignoring the cursing from his father and running to start his car. <br/>He started his car with a shaky hand and sped down the street much faster than he should have at first, only slowing down as he passed a small playground by his house. <br/>“Fuck” he mumbled to himself. He couldn’t help but find his mind wandering back to when they first met. <br/>Soda had seen Steve playing with a beetle on the slide of the small playground and had come over to ask Steve about his small friend. Steve let Soda hold the beetle and they became instant best friends. The spark and innocence in Soda’s eyes was something that Steve found extreme comfort in even from such a young age. Something Steve desired more than anything in that very moment. <br/>He tried to shake the thoughts of young Soda out of his mind. It didn’t help terribly much that he began to drive by the old empty lot where they used to play. <br/>Steve’s clearest memory of the lot was from when he was about nine or ten. It was him and Soda playing army with their fake guns, sometimes as horrible as it was, real ones if Steve could get his hands on his fathers stash. They would fake shoot at each other, practice dying dramatically, and laugh for hours on end. Steve couldn’t help but draw the terrifying comparisons to the cruel irony of Soda’s death on Vietnam. It felt planned. <br/>He felt hot angry tears beginning to well in the corners of his eyes. In an attempt to hold the tears back he flicked on the car's radio. The soft sounds of Elvis began filling his ears from the car speakers instantly.<br/>He laughed to himself, shaking his head at what seemed like the most evil practical joke. <br/>He listened to the lyrics flow through the car, his tears beginning to flow from his angry eyes as he remembered their first kiss. To that very song. <br/>Steve wasn’t much of an Elvis fan but boy was Soda. Soda would often comb his hair in a swirl, put on his fathers suits, and dance around his living room. Singing whatever god awful Elvis song was blaring from his small hand radio. Steve thought it was ridiculous but it was sure a sight to see. A fifteen year old Sodapop, wanting to be a rockstar. And Steve couldn’t help himself but fall completely head over heels in love with his best friend. Kissing him for the first time of many times to that song as he danced around the kitchen with his signature smile. <br/>Steve missed that smile more than anything in the world. He saw it everywhere he went. Around every corner. Every street. Everywhere he went he had some memory there that included Sodapop and his bright smile. He hated it. <br/>He felt himself finally driving towards the Curtis’s house. Something he hadn't done in four days. Something he couldn’t bring himself to do until now. He was so desperate to feel Soda’s warmth again, and that was the only way he knew how. <br/>He pulled in front of the old house and put his car in park, a shaky breath leaving his parted lips.<br/>He stared at the house in horror and comfort. <br/>He looked at the porch steps. The very steps he had said his last words to Soda and kissed him goodbye. Sure, he got letters, but that was the last time in a year Steve had gotten to hold and feel Soda. And if that hadn’t been ripping him to shreds in the last year, it sure did now. <br/>His chest was heaving with sobs as he remembered every word of their last interaction.  <br/>“Promise you’ll miss me?” Soda giggled, trying to keep the moment light. <br/>“I promised. Promise you’ll come home to me?” Steve asked. <br/>“I promise” Soda smiled softly, wrapping Steve in a tight desperate hug. They stayed that way for at least a minute before they pulled away, Soda gave him a kiss, and got in his car. <br/>Steve remembered the kiss most of all. It wasn't anything major. It was a peck, if that. Something so small that they had done millions of times, yet Steve couldn’t help but feel very millisecond of it all over again. What he would give for that kiss again. <br/>He tried to gather himself as he opened his car door and stepped out. His whole body was still shaking in rage and pure sadness but he managed to stumble his way to the front door. <br/>Before he could even reach his hand out for the door knob, it flew open. <br/>“Steve?” Darry ashed in a hushed tone “come in.”</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>